


You're the Best Student

by wisia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Coaching, M/M, Pining, Spoilers, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is a coach. Isn't he?[Added another part, so spoilers for episode 7. ]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Goes through episodes 1-6. So beware for spoilers at the end if you haven't watched episode 6.

His time on the ice is limited. Victor knows and when he wins his Fifth World Championship—well, he doesn’t want to retire yet. He can push himself for another year. If he takes it slow. Maybe. Probably.

But it’s expected, and Victor is running out of tricks. He skates and stutters to a stop, ignorant of Yakov's yelling and dead to all noise. He doesn’t even see the stares he gets from Yuri and the other skaters. Because his time may be sooner than he thought. He can’t think of a routine, or he does but Eros and Agape isn’t quite it. The realization throws Victor for a loop, and he doesn’t stumble over the ice—he’s too practiced for that—but his heart trips. Trips and can’t get back to itself.

He goes home that night to his apartment in St. Petersburg, but he doesn’t stow away his skates just yet. He’s tempted though, give into his own personal drama. Wants to shout and rage, trampling across the floor with his arms in the air. Makkachin whines, and he falls into bed. His heart doesn’t stop its racketing beat. The seagulls wake him up way too early, and he lounges all day. Gorges himself on herring and cheese and all the things he couldn’t have. Victor’s diet isn’t the issue it used to be.

He promptly throws up several hours later, stomach unused to the sudden excess of richness normally denied in season. He repeats it again the next day, and even the next day after that. Yakov yells at him. He hasn’t showed up for practice. When Yuri video calls him, Victor smiles blindingly.

“It’s off season, Yuri.”

And he lounges some more. Victor has never listened to Yakov anyway. He eats more herring and plenty of schi. Lots and lots of schi until he’s almost sick of it, but it’s comfort food at its best. It’s like that for a week until Georgi texts him. Sends him a plain youtube link. Victor presses play, doesn’t even read the title. He’s perplexed—an amateur skating video?

But it isn’t.

It’s an almost perfect rendition of his routine “Stay Close to me”. Victor watches Yuuri Katsuki dance on ice, music in his veins and heart worn too visible and honest. He watches it again, and Victor’s eyes grow wide and then narrow in focus.

There’s a new racket to his heart, and it doesn’t stop beating.

It’s practically impulsive.

Victor books a one way ticket to Japan.

Coach. He’s a coach.

He arrives in the sleepy town of Hasetsu with little fanfare. The air smells different, and it’s new. Not just because it’s another place, another culture so unlike his own. There’s a strumming in his blood to go along with the way his heart’s rackets, and Victor knows it to be true. He’s meant to be here.

His initial meeting with Yuuri doesn’t go as planned. He doesn’t expect Yuuri to burst into the onsen, into the steaming atmosphere to look for him.

“V-victor,” Yuuri says, eyes wide behind his fogging glasses. “Why are you here?”

Victor’s naked, and he isn’t ready. Not prepared at all, but he’s full of reflexes. It drives him up into an elegant pose, arm outstretched. Says “Yuuri, starting today, I’ll be your coach. I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.”

He winks, and he really isn’t prepared for how Yuuri faints. His first hour as a coach really could have gone better.

**oOoOoOoOoOoO**

The news spread fast. Victor makes it a point to ignore the media and news reports. However, it’s quite hard to ignore Yakov telling the press that Victor only thinks of himself and that he’ll never be anyone’s coach. Victor grits his teeth and gets to work.

But he doesn’t know how at first. To be a coach that is.

It’s basic in the beginning. He finds out Yuuri’s favorite dish, katsudon. Proclaims it delicious on first bite and puts Yuuri on a strict diet and an exercising regimen. That’s easy. And he probably shouldn’t feel a little too gleeful at the expression on Yuuri’s face.

His glee turns a frown when he fails to get Yuuri to share a bed with him. Victor’s certain that getting Yuuri to reach his full potential meant a full understanding of him. It’s the same approach he takes to skating. When Victor choreographs his routine, he dives in headfirst. Learns every note of the music, read every book and watch every movie he can to get into the emotion and the story. After all, how could Victor deliver the best without truly knowing the matter from the inside out?

Still, Victor’s heart rackets, and it rackets in a way similar to discovering the latest depth to a routine.

He gets into Yuuri’s space, peppers him with questions. Exact and personal. “Do you like Minako? Do you have a girlfriend? Any ex-girlfriends?”

Yuuri blushes red, says no, and Victor—there’s a coaching moment here. He tries to relate, to get to Yuuri’s level. Starts to tell him about his first girlfriend, but Yuuri stops him. Victor admits he gets distracted then, the tiled roof in the distance catching his eyes. The visit to the Hasetsu ninja house is a vacation that Victor long deserves. He takes multitudes of pictures, posting them online. He still trains Yuuri, pushes him to lose the weight gained, but if he tours Hasetsu…well, Victor does what he likes.

Yuri arrives from Russia with his own special entrance. Victor catches it on twitter, but he’s faced with a dilemma he hadn’t foreseen. It’s—Victor’s memories is poor. He’s never really good at remembering certain details, and he’s a coach for two. Yuri spikes thing up, and Victor gets into the heart of coaching them. He has two students, and he desperately wants to show Yakov. Somehow, Victor restrains.

The routine for Eros and Agape—the ones he made for his own and couldn’t finish—well, he gets into them now. The music plays in his head, and it’ll be so easy to assign them the notes in their respective pool. He turns from a spread eagle into a jump, and when he lands—he got it. A coach needed to push his students to succeed beyond what they can do, and he gives them his routines whole heartedly. Agape for Yuri and Eros for Yuuri. He smiles at their surprise, but Victor’s a coach. He knows he’s right about this, about helping them realize what they didn’t know they could be or were. His heart rackets, and the day goes on. The skating rink’s triplets warm his soul, and it has never felt more right as he watches both Yuris warm up.

But Victor’s too handsy. He can’t help it. It has always been in his nature, and he moves further into Yuuri’s personal space. At first, it’s needed. A pat here, an arm there. Yuuri doesn’t quite lean into his touch, backs away at first, but there’s a touch starved flavor in the way Yuuri doesn’t reject it. Victor takes it, and it most definitely crosses a line. Yuri interrupts them, and Victor breathes a sigh of relief inwardly. He’s lucky for it because he doesn’t know how to stop, and he’s lucky that Yuuri isn't the type to sue for improper conduct.

Both Yuris struggle with their assigned routines though, and while he doesn’t look it—it’s maddening. Victor stays up late, eyes to the ceiling, and Makkachin on his chest. They can’t grasp the meaning of their routine, can’t get into the thick of it much less the center.

And still then Georgi texts him to come back, and Christophe laments losing a rival. Victor pictures Yakov’s face. He’s a coach. He’ll make it somehow.

Yuuri surprises him with his version of Eros. Victor wouldn’t equate eros to a pork cutlet bowl, but Yuuri looks so bright about it and somehow it just seems so Yuuri. If that’s what it takes, well, Victor will take his small victories where he can. He’s a coach, and even if nobody saw it—this was a won battle. His wonderful punk takes a little longer, and apparently there was wonders to a cold shower. Victor mentally thanks Minako for her discussion on traditional Japanese mediation and a brief review of Japan’s temples.

The day the contest starts, Victor brims with happiness. He did it. He managed to get his students to Agape and Eros, nudged them in the right direction. It’s not perfect, but he did.

Still, Victor can’t say he’s surprised when Yuuri “wins” or that Yuri has left without a word. After Agape, after seeing it performed, he knows now that he isn’t the coach for Yuri. Yakov suits Yuri far better, as much as it galls Victor to think it, but Yakov did coached him.

He still focuses a little too much on techniques. It’s what Victor knows best. He tells Yuuri freely to nix having three quads in the free program. Yuuri gets nervous way too easily, and he flubs his jumps when something distracts him internally. Yuuri droops into the water, head in his arms. Victor looks down at him, at the way the ends of Yuuri’s hair curl in the steam, and his heart rackets here. He doesn’t know why, and he thinks of Yuuri’s step technique. His presentation will be more than enough. In fact, it was—it was—

“I was drawn to you because of the music,” he tells Yuuri honest and gentle. “The way you skate is like creating music with your body.”

He pulls Yuuri up, and everything is a reaction. Victor draws his fingers across Yuuri’s wrist and down his leg, nudges him into position, into a stretch. The heat of the onsen is heady, and there’s just something in the air that reminds Victor that he can do this. His heart rackets loud in his chest. He can mold Yuuri into the finest skater, and Yuuri is so very pliable in his arms.

Up till he learns that Yuuri has never picked his own music.

And Victor has to start anew.

He speaks to Celestino, asks why. It’s clear to him that he still hasn’t learned Yuuri at all. Isn’t this something he should know as Yuuri’s coach?

It pains him, and it pains him further when he hears the music Yuuri hands over to him. It’s not right, not right at all, and his disapproval comes out strong.

Yuuri avoids him.

Every time Victor tries to draw him back in, Yuuri pulls back further. Even the fleeting touches he manages is shrugged away with a well placed turn or side step, and he drowns. He’s losing Yuuri before he has even begun, and that just won’t do. Victor’s a coach, and he can’t have Yuuri disappear without a fight.

At first, Victor wants to yell. That’s what Yakov would have done, but he knows that won’t work for Yuuri. He’s a coach, Victor swears he is. But what is a coach without a pupil? Without his student? He comes across the answer when he sees the birds fly above in the early grey morning sky, cawing and honking.

The walk to the ocean fills Victor with dread. He makes Yuuri ride on his back, Makkachin at his side, and tread through the sand. Like this, Yuuri can’t see, and Victor can hold onto him. If his fingers are just a little tight, it’s only so Yuuri won’t fall off. He doesn’t know how to get Yuuri to talk. With his knees drawn up to his face, Yuuri is as closed off as he can be. Victor’s stupidly inane, talks about the seagulls in St. Petersburg.

And Yuuri tells him a story of a girl in Detroit. Softly, Victor reassures him that Yuuri isn’t weak. And gradually, Yuuri opens up to him.

And Victor, oh god, Victor’s heart racket tight in his chest. He meant it to be teasing, an off remark, but the way Yuuri responds—he thought of himself as a coach, but Yuuri only wants him to be himself. It’s humbling. Sweet even. Victor vows he’ll get Yuuri to the GPF, and when he hears the music—

The girl from before. She wrote Yuuri his song, the one to define his career. And now she wrote him the song, the one to define his love for the ice. She put Yuuri’s whole into the notes, each music bar a reading and a reveal. She knew Yuuri intimately more than he could tell, and Victor’s jealous. He’s a little (a lot) envious that the girl can render Yuuri an open book.

But Victor, oh Victor will do more. He creates a routine for Yuuri that will showcase his all. Takes into account Yuuri’s stamina, his ability with steps, and refines it. He puts possibly more work into it than he has ever done for his own routines overall. He has too.

And his heart continues to racket, continues to beat hard because Victor has to get it right. When Yuuri touches his head, he slumps onto the ice. His heart doesn’t stop pounding from the exertion of jumping or from this key moment in time.

They get to the first part, the first event. It’s simple, and he knows Yuuri can easily win with his experience. Yet…Victor’s disappointed. Yuuri’s too in his own head that doesn’t even notice Kenjirou Minami. He has to put his foot down and walk away. It hurts to do, and he has never been this strict or harsh on Yuuri before. Not in this way because Victor will demand and has always demanded in technique and steps. But this? This is an awareness that Yakov claims Victor never has, but Victor has always been considerate of his fans.

He cannot help but smile when Yuuri shouts “good luck”. When he applies lip balm to Yuuri’s chapped lips, when he sees the way Yuuri looks at him, Victor’s heart beats fast and furious. He cannot look away, and he almost can’t watch. Puts up his custom Makkachin tissue box up as Yuuri disregards his advice. Performs each jump. It’s imperfect, but the audience’s riled up. Then he sees Yuuri go into the final spin and has to wince. Because as Yuuri finishes, he realizes that Yuuri takes after him.

Victor feels more like a coach than he ever has.

And it’s improper the way his heart beats.

Yuuri’s bold in the Cup of China. Takes Victor’s hand and presses his forehead to Victor’s.

“Don’t you look away,” Yuuri says.

And Victor can’t. He really can’t as Yuuri takes his coaching and his heart. It’s indecent the way Yuuri fly across the ice, in the very manner Victor dreamt of it. And it’s immoral when he notes the way his heart beats now.

He doesn’t stop and can’t stop himself from reaching out. Christophe tells him the kiss and cry is that way, and Victor goes as quick as he can. He embraces Yuuri, hugs him with all he’s got, and feels his heart storming up the racket to an impossible crescendo. The smile is so wide on his lips, it threatens to break his face in half.

But he can’t say more than that. Victor’s a coach, and there’s only one line he can say.

“You’re the best student.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm screaming over Episode 7, so this ended up being written.
> 
> So, entirely spoilers for episode 7, pretty much all the Victuuri scenes. I really super love exploring Victor's side as a coach. :D I have a lot of feels about Victor as a coach. And there's so much with the ethical moral about a coach and student dating. I think I might write something else based entirely around that as this is more focused on Victor himself.

He isn’t a coach. Victor wasn’t a coach, not at all. In spite of all his efforts, he feels defeat climbing onto him. Yuuri was a wonderful student, and Victor was so lucky to have him. He doesn’t regret his impulsiveness, to reach this point, but he doesn’t know how to handle this.

He rubs his fingers across the bottom of his chin, takes in Yuuri—the bags beneath those eyes, skin sallow, and hair unkempt. An entire picture of abject misery.

“Yuuri, you haven’t slept, have you?”

Yuuri’s quick to respond, but he _is_ tired. It’s evident, and this Victor can handle. Knows how to solve well. Victor drags him back to the hotel, throws a blanket over, and pins him down with his weight. As if that’ll make it better.

“It’s fine,” he reassures Yuuri, and he might just be trying to reassure himself. Victor has to believe it, and he also wants to hit himself in the face. Yuuri gets nervous, can easily turn into a literal ball of nerves. Victor should have been watching out for that, but the high from the short program blinded him.

So, he wasn’t a coach, not quite, and the feeling weighed down heavy in his gut. There is no schi to eat and no Makkachin to distract him. He’s left to stare down at Yuuri. Then, he leaves. It’s the only thing he can do now to get Yuuri some rest.

Victor can barely keep a smile on his face. It feels tight, pasted on. There are so many people milling around, entirely crowded, and it’s plain to see that Yuuri hasn’t gotten any rest at all even with a forced nap. Yuuri fumbles with the water bottle, and Victor winces. The man can’t even open the damn thing. It doesn’t take a second to forbid Yuuri from doing jumps during the warm ups. It wouldn’t end well, and even if Victor isn’t good at this, he knows this at least. If Yuuri messes up a jump, it would ruin his confidence, possibly drop it so low that even Victor can’t repair it.

Yuuri’s expression is glum, coming back from the ice, and he looks even worse. Victor watches. There’s tension everywhere in Yuuri’s form, and the stretching doesn’t ease him at all. He doesn’t have any words, but when he notices the reporters, he knows what to do. Pulls Yuuri away, shielding him from every eye he can. It’s difficult. In a place like there, there’s hardly any privacy. They end up in the garage, and it’s as good as any. Except, the music filters down.

“Don’t listen,” he almost begs. Holds onto Yuuri, covers his ears, and prays. For the first time, Victor feels unsure of his ability. He really isn’t a coach, but he thought he was the one for Yuuri. He doesn’t know how to motivate him, how to get him out of his slump and mind.

They stare at each other, and Victor’s heart throbs in pain. He really wants…

Yuuri turns to leave, to the chaos upstairs, and Victor has to be mean. There isn’t any other way, and he knows very well how fragile a skater’s heart can be. So, Victor stops him. Says it cool and calm in counterpoint to the racket in his heart.

“If you mess up the skate and miss the podium, I’ll take responsibility by resigning as your coach.”

He doesn’t mean it, and it’s harsh. Still, he doesn't expect Yuuri to burst into tears. He could never predict what Yuuri would or would not do.

“Why would you say something like that?” Yuuri asks.

“Uh, sorry. Yuuri.” Victor walks up to him, ginger and afraid. He doesn’t know how to handle this. He thinks this again, and he feels worse for prompting such a reaction. “I wasn’t being serious—“

But he was too in a way. Because he couldn’t forgive himself for not helping Yuuri as he should. He was a coach, and he wasn’t. Not in the way that counted or matter.

Yuuri bowls right over him, making Victor swallow his words.

“This time, I’m anxious because my mistakes would reflect on you too!”

And it hits Victor that he truly was Yuuri’s coach of all else. He wouldn’t ever leave Yuuri if he could help it, and Yuuri knew it. He’s touched by how much Yuuri thinks of him, of his reputation, and—

“I don’t know what I should do,” Victor admits. He’s never been good with people crying in front of him, so how could he with Yuuri? “Should I just kiss you or something?”

It would be the easiest thing in the world to do.

“No!” Yuuri practically shouts, even with his face streaked in tears. “Just stay close to me!”

Victor startles, and it wasn’t a coincidence that Yuuri used those words out of any other combination he could choose. The starting point of their entire everything. He doesn’t know what to say, every thought leaving him completely, and heart racketing an awful beat. The moment is too charged, and Victor can hardly breathe.

But they have to go, and Yuuri turns as he wipes his eyes. The walk back is silent, and Yuuri gets onto the ice without a word. Victor wants to say something, anything, but he has nothing. As always, Yuuri grounds him.

He falls over the ledge, body bent at the waist, to catch the used tissue, and that’s when Yuuri’s finger poke him on the head. He feels a single pat and has to wonder as Yuuri stands center rink.

Victor prays because he believes Yuuri can do it. He prays and puts all his faith into Yuuri as requested. The one thing that Yuuri asks of him, Victor does.

Yuuri skates, and all Victor can do is watch. Watch Yuuri glides across the ice and captivate the audience. There are mistakes, but Yuuri doesn’t lose speed. Yuuri gives it everything he has, and at the last—

His mouth is open. That’s his…

He’s so proud, so overwhelmed with feelings. He runs to the gap in the wall, has to make this count. Victor was Yuuri’s coach, and his feelings are bleeding over. His heart can’t stop, and he doesn’t think. Victor jumps, throws himself toward Yuuri.

Their lips brush, just barely half a second, and they’re down on the cold ice.

“This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you surprised me.”

“Really?” Yuuri says, breathless, and Victor smiles. Because he was Yuuri’s coach, and it was more than Victor could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://thatshamelessyaoishipper.tumblr.com/post/153279298777/okay-but-are-we-not-gonna-talk-about-he-fact-that
> 
> ALSO: See this for why I chose to write the line "stay close to me" vs. "stand by me"

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore Victor as a coach and address a little the imbalance between a student and a coach. I also wanted to write pining Victor. So, I hope this works.


End file.
